Shuffle Challenge
by The Last Letter
Summary: A wide range of songfics. Unrelated one-shots.
1. I Love You This Big

_I know I'm still young  
But, I know how I feel  
I might not have too much experience  
But, I know when love is real._

He had been twenty-five years old. She had just turned twenty-one. He had met her in, where else, a bar. She had been out with girlfriends, getting over a break-up with some boy from her college. But, from the first time he saw her, he knew that he had to have her. It was like no other attraction he had ever felt before. Her long black hair, her beautiful brown eyes, those soft pink lips. Lao Shi was petrified of this gorgeous creature. Still, he went over to her and asked her name. Xiu Ling Song. When he repeated it, it felt like heaven on his lips. Her smile put him on cloud nine, and when he led her on the dance floor, he was afraid to let go, lest he lose her.

_By the way my heart starts pounding_  
_When I look into your eyes_  
_I might look a little silly_  
_Standing with my arms stretched open wide._

Six months later, his life was her. He couldn't go an hour without calling her, without hearing her voice. He couldn't wait to spend every day with her. And though he might be moving a little quickly, he went and bought a ring. He couldn't stand her just being his girlfriend, couldn't stand them living in two separate homes. He needed her to be there when he got home, to fall asleep next to her, to wake up knowing that she was his and he was hers and that nothing would ever come between them. So that night, he took her on a walk. The spring air was slightly chilled and she cuddled close under his arm. As they passed through a park, he heard a far off band playing. He recognized the song. It was the song they had first danced to. She pointed it out. He stopped and faced her, and the words just fell naturally from his lips, just proving that this was right. "Six months ago, I asked you to dance. Today, I'm telling you I love you and asking, baby, marry me?"

_I love you this big_  
_Eyes have never seen... this big_  
_No-one's ever dreamed... this big_  
_And I'll spend the rest of my life_  
_Explaining what words cannot describe but, I'll try_  
_I love you this big_

He didn't care that the church was stuffier than his suit. He didn't care that the late summer heat was causing them all to sweat. All that mattered was her, in her beautiful red dress with that smile he was addicted too. He could barely remember the vows. When he looked back on his wedding day, he remembered her. He remembered those thick black lashes framing light brown eyes that were full of love for him. He remembered her soft, shapely, painted lips. He remembered the gentle blush on her pale cheeks and the way her long dark hair was pinned up, curls framing her face. He remembered the golden designs on her dress; dragons, as she had long since known his secret and accepted him for it. He remembered the sweetest words he had ever heard in his entire life, "you may now kiss the bride".

_I'll love you to the moon and back_  
_I'll love you all the time_  
_Deeper than the ocean_  
_And higher than the pines._

When their daughter was born, he didn't think he could stand it. As he sat beside his wife in a hospital bed, their newborn between them, he was full of so much love, he thought that he would die. He couldn't imagine loving either of them more. There she was, beautiful, strong, in love with this new being that was a product of their love for each other. Then, there was his daughter, his Susan, with light eyes like her mother's and a nose like his. She was already proving she was strong, like her mother, stubborn like him. Everything was perfect, life could not be better.

_Cause girl, you do something to me_  
_Deep down in my heart_  
_I know I look a little crazy_  
_Standing with my arms stretched all apart._

Susan's wedding was something that she threw herself into, heart and soul. Susan relied on her mother for all the details, and he was happy to watch her eyes light up as she talked about dresses and food and shoes and guests and other things that made his head spin. But she was happy, his daughter was happy, and though he wasn't sure what he made of this american husband, as long as Susan was happy, he was happy. Everything now was happy. It was spring and love was everywhere, for everyone. Susan was married, he and his soul mate were together, how could life get any better?

_I love you this big_  
_Eyes have never seen... this big_  
_No-one's ever dreamed... this big_  
_And I'll spend the rest of my life_  
_Explaining what words cannot describe but, I'll try_  
_I love you this big_

Twenty five. That's how many years they had been married now. It had been twenty-five years since they had publicly pledged their eternal love for another, though he had known from first sight that he was destined to be with her. Age had only made her more beautiful in his eyes. Her hair was shorter now, and she often wore it up, something he always tried to negate, pulling the pins out of her buns so that her slightly greying hair would frame her face as he danced with her around the kitchen. There were soft lines around her eyes now, but her eyes were still the same; beautiful and in love. He would hold her hand and brush his lips across her knuckles, cradling her in his arms, bringing her little gifts. He did everything he could to show her that he loved her, but it could never be enough.

_So much bigger than I ever dreamed my heart ever would_  
_I love you this big_  
_And I'd write your name in stars across the sky_  
_If I could, I would_

He didn't like America, and he especially did not like this New York City. Neither did she, he could tell, but they were happy to be here. Here in this land of huge buildings and busy people, they were happy. They stood in a hospital waiting room, seeing nurses and doctors bustle by, waiting for Susan's husband to appear and announce the birth of their grandchild. When they had a grandson, and learned his name was Jacob, she couldn't stop repeating it. She held the boy just moments after his birth and her eyes shone bright as the stars as she kissed his forehead and fussed over their daughter. He was by her every step of the way, hand on her waist, lips on her cheek.

_I love you this big_  
_Oh, eyes have never seen... this big_  
_No-one's ever dreamed... this big_  
_And I'll spend the rest of my life_  
_Explaining what words cannot describe but, I'll try_  
_I love you this big_

She was complaining about her looks again. He listened attentively, like any good husband, but he didn't understand. He didn't see what she was talking about. He didn't see the "fat" "wrinkles" "rolls" "bags" "puffiness" "spider veins" and other things she went on about. Finally, one night, after she had spent many long minutes in front of the mirror, he went and retrieved a picture of her at twenty-five. He sat it next to the mirror so she could see both, took her hand and said, "The woman in the picture, she is beautiful. But this woman in the mirror, she is exquisite. She is not only beautiful in the physical sense with her bright eyes and pink lips and soft hair, but she is beautiful in the way of gentleness, how she cradled our daughter and our grandson. She is beautiful in the way she kisses me goodnight, and how s She never fails to say she loves me. She is beautiful in the way she provides for those she loves in any way she can. She is beautiful in how she is forgiving and kind, funny and smart, wise and curious. Your beauty is how you smell the bouquets of flowers I bring home for you, the way you always have to listen to my heartbeat as we lay in bed. Your beauty is not only what you look like, my love, but in your experiences and your actions and how you love." She had never complained about her old age again.

_I love you this big_  
_Oh, eyes have never seen... this big_  
_No-one's ever dreamed... this big_  
_And I'll spend the rest of my life_  
_Explaining what words cannot describe but, I'll try_  
_I love you this big_

He couldn't let go. Her hand, her physical hand, was limp in his own. According to the doctors, she had passed away forty-seven minutes ago, but the sickness had her in a coma for three days now. He sat with her body, in a hospital room that was threatening to swallow him whole, and stared at her face. This face he had not gone a day without seeing for decades upon decades. He sat and let the barrage of memories overwhelm him; her laugh, their first dance, her wedding dress, the skilful way she prepared his favourite meal every Sunday night without fail. Tears in his eyes, he kissed her on the forehead, on her lips and whispered his goodbye.

**I tried to mix traditional Chinese wedding culture with the North American wedding culture I am more familiar with. The song is _'Love You This Big'_ by _Scotty McCreery._**

**~TLL~**


	2. We Owned The Night

_Tell me have you ever wanted__  
__Someone so much it hurts,__  
__Your lips keep trying to speak__  
__But you just can't find the words?__  
__Well, I had this dream once,__  
__I held it in my hand.__  
_

Jonothan kept his left hand curled firmly in his pocket, around the box. The edges bit into his palm and the fuzz on the green box was damp with sweat. Tonight was the night he was going to propose. Tonight he was going to make all his dreams, secret in his mind or whispered to her in the dark of night, come true. He knocked on her apartment door.

"Come in!" Her voice rang out.

"Hey, Susan!" He called in reply, opening the door.

"You're early," she appeared in front of him and her beauty made his heart skip a beat. "You haven't given me enough time to look beautiful yet."

His lips quirked, "honey, you're always beautiful, perfect, magnificent!" He tossed his hands about, making his point with his passionate gestures.

"You're sweet," Susan slipped to his side, kissing his cheek, before brushing her lips against his. "I'm just going to go finish getting ready and – Jon?"

"Yes dear?" he looked down in her beautiful face, smiling like a fool. How could life possibly get any better?

"What's in your hand?" Susan tilted her head to the side. Was that what it looked like? Was it a . . . a . . . ring box? Her heart fluttered and her stomach twisted. Was he going to propose?

"Hand?" Jonothan looked over to his left hand, which had traitorously left his pocket while still holding the ring box. He gulped, stuffing the box and his hand back into his pocket. "What hand? There's nothing in my hand." He could feel a blush on his collarbones and cheeks setting in, along with panic. He wanted to marry her, but he had been counting on the evening to work himself up to the proposal.

"Jon?" Susan pressed, unsure if she should.

Jonothan's shoulders slumped, giving up his secret. "Susan, my beautiful, perfect, wonderful, flawless, caring, gentle Susan. I can't imagine a moment without you," ungracefully, he fell to his knee, bringing out the ring box again and opening it. "Will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Her hands went to her cheeks, her skin turning a light pink with shock, amazement. "Yes!" There was nothing else in the world she wanted more than to marry Jonothan Long.

_She was the purest beauty,__  
__But not the common kind.__  
__She had a way about her__  
__That made you feel alive,__  
__And for a moment,__  
__You made the world stand still.__  
__Yeah we owned the night.__  
_

Arthur Spudinski was smart. He was happy to play the role of 'simpleton sidekick' but he often noticed things that other people didn't. He knew that, when the oracle twins predicted that he and Trixie would tie the knot, they hadn't been talking about shoes. He knew that there was something special about Trixie, something that just clicked with him in a way that was meant to be.

Trixie was not what most people would call beautiful, but he knew she was. Where he was laid back and calm, she was bold; spicy. She was brilliant in ways that he would never ever be. Her hair, which he had seen down twice in his life, had captured his interest. The first time he had seen it down he wasn't even supposed to be at her house. He was 14 years old and they had been going to a movie. Jake was on some kind of retreat, so it had just been the two of them. He had gotten bored of being at home and he had gone over. She had been in the shower, so he had collapsed on her bed, like he had a million times before.

When she walked in the room, her hair wet and curly and down and so much longer than he thought it was, he had been mesmerized. He had wanted to see if he could run his fingers through her hair, to see if it was as soft as it looked. He had wanted to pull on the curls and watched them spring up. He had exited her room, letting her get ready for the movie, but not before he had noticed the way water droplets clung to her dark skin, the way her lips looked without her usual lipstick – the only makeup she wore -, the way her eyes were hazy from the steam and heat from the shower.

The second time he saw her hair down they were eighteen. He had pulled those elastics out himself. It was their last high school dance before graduating and he had asked her to go with him. He knew that once they were out in college, into the real world, their chance would have slipped through their fingers. He spent the night swaying to the music in her arms. Afterwards, he walked her home. And he kissed her on her front door step. She pulled him in the house after her. They didn't have sex that night; they spent the night in each other's arms. But, standing in the dark of her bedroom (lit only by a blue bulb lamp) he had taken the elastics and bobby pins from her elaborate hairdo. He watched those curls fall around her shoulders and ran his fingers through them, just as he had thought of doing all that time ago.

In the same light, he saw the shadows play against her dark skin as she slipped out of her formal dress, reaching for her pajamas. She had pulled him into the bed beside her, and he felt her fingers running over his bare chest, felt her head rest above his heartbeat. She had fallen asleep with her head there, and he had fallen asleep with his hand tangled in her hair.

_You had me dim the lights,__  
__You danced just like a child.__  
__The wine spilled on your dress,__  
__And all you did was smile.__  
__Yeah, it was perfect,__  
__And I hold it in my mind.__  
__Yeah, we owned the night.__  
_

Believe it or not, Fu Dog was young once. He had spent his days wrinkle and care free in a long forgotten world where magical creatures roamed free. It was in one of these worlds that he met her; the unclaimed daughter of a wealthy magical creature. Time has worn him down, but she had only gotten more beautiful with age. This girl, the first one who had any real claim on his heart, had never left his life, though they were no longer young and in love like they had been all that time ago.

The girl's name?

V-V-V-Veronica.

Their first night together was timeless; perfect. He had bowed to her like a gentlemen, she had pretended she didn't like him as much as she did like a lady. He asked her to dance and she had grinned, and he wanted to make that grin blossom into a full smile. As he held her and they twirled, him stepping on all of her feet, he talked and she talked and they laughed. When he led her away from all the people, the party, she willingly followed, holding up one side of her dress so that it wouldn't all drag. The other hand was clasped tightly in his. They went back to his place, where she offered him his own wine, making him grin with her spunk. He went to light the candles, but she had stopped him. _"Moonlight, Fu," _She had said_, "moonlight is the key to magic … and romance"_.

So they had danced in the moonlight to nothing but his off key humming when he could think of a tune, or wasn't talking to her. And when they fell together in a flurry of limbs and love and the wine had spilled all over her beautiful dress, he had apologized. She had pulled him closer and told him not to think of it.

The next morning, she was gone. Though he saw her after, things were never the same, but they had that one night, and they would always have the moonlight.

_When the summer rolls around,__  
__And the sun starts sinkin' down,__  
__I still remember you,__  
__oh I remember you.__  
__And I wonder where you are,__  
__Are you looking at those same stars again?__  
__Do you remember when...__  
_

He's on a rooftop. _The rooftop_. It hasn't really been that long since Jake has seen Rose, but it feels like an eternity. He goes there, night after night, and feels the heat of the summer nights bake into his skin, standing in the same spot she had been in when he had lost her. How could he lose her? He knew he had saved her, that it would be the only chance she would have at all, but it still killed him.

He knows she doesn't know him at all. That one chance meeting outside of the school, before she disappeared with her family (her _family!_ he gave her that) to Hong Kong, proved that she didn't know him, didn't know that once, she had loved him with all she had, and he had loved her back. She didn't know that every time he closed his eyes, he saw hers because it technically never happened. He had never taken her hand, shy and clumsy like the boy he was. He had never held her close on this very rooftop, dancing to a tune that won't stop running through his goddamned head, while he worked up the courage to kiss her, neither knowing that it would be their last night.

He sits, staring at the moon. Maybe someday he would see her again. Maybe someday, they would be together. But she wouldn't see things the way did. She wouldn't think of dreams the same way he did; dreams, which had once been their only real way to connect, was now his only way to think of her without pain. She wouldn't look up at the night sky and remember that awful night she had disappeared back to the life she should have had all along, taking his heart with her.

But he would.

He couldn't help but think that maybe, when she laid her head of soft golden hair down to sleep, in a city thousands and thousands of miles away, she would dream of New York. Maybe she would dream of New York, and she would dream of herself, her hair in a tight braid, clothed in tight clothing, pretending to fight a dragon. Maybe, deep in her heart, she would know that this dragon wasn't what he was supposed to be. She would know that she shouldn't fight him, that they weren't enemies. She would know this dragon meant something to her. Then, her dream self would pause in the fight and the scene would change. Perhaps, she would see a rooftop; this very rooftop. Maybe she would look down and see herself in a beautiful dress, then look over and see a boy, a boy with black and green hair, all done up in a tuxedo reaching shyly for her hand, asking for her heart. And, maybe, she would know that this boy, who maybe she remembered running into in front of her old middle school on one of her last days in New York, already had her heart, and that she already had his.

Maybe.

_We woke under a blanket,__  
__All tangled up in skin,__  
__Not knowin' in that moment__  
__We'd never speak again.__  
__But it was perfect, I never will forget__  
__When we owned the night.__  
_

He was the Bradster. He was a ladies man. Yeah, the ladies loved the Brad. But it was in the July of his sixteenth year that he actually made love for the first time. He had known Stacy all through middle school but he had never taken much of a notice in her (well, he didn't notice her more than he ever noticed any girl) until a party held at his house. She had shown up, surrounded by other cheerleaders. But he had seen her alone, by the punch bowl (which had managed not to get spiked – yet) and gone to talk to her. Her eyes had lit up when he approached.

"Hey, Stacey."

"Hi Brad."

Her lipstick was staining the rim of her plastic cup.

"You look really stunning tonight. Almost as stunning as the Bradster." He flexed his muscles for her, loving the way she stared at him for moments longer than necessary.

"Thanks. I always try to look my best," she batted her lashes in a way that made her eyes look more beautiful than they already did. "This is an awesome party you got going on."

Brad shrugged. "A party is a party," he grabbed her hand. "A night with you is something special."

Two hours and a lot of drinking from the now spiked punch bowl later, they were in his room. She was underneath of him on his bed, and he was pulling off the outfit he had complimented just hours ago. She was clawing at his clothes in the same manner, as though his shirt and pants were just obstacles in her way. His lips met hers, both of them tasting strawberry punch and vodka. His bare skin glided over hers as he held her close while people still danced and drank in his house around him.

The afternoon sun woke them. His arms were wrapped protectively around her naked body; she clung to him as though he were the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I have to go. My parents will be wondering where I am." She sat up quickly, surprisingly coordinated for the hangover she was sure to have.

"Sure," Brad grabbed her arm. "Can I see you again?"

She finished dressing, before facing him. "Of course," she smiled the smile it had taken him only moments to adore, "I would love that."

He watched her leave his room, before rolling over and staring at his ceiling, wondering when to take her out on their first official date and how soon it could be. He had no idea that, while he was thinking this, Stacey was walking along a busy street in New York. He had no idea that one of the heels she was wearing last night broke. And he had no idea that, while he was thinking of her kiss, she was falling into traffic, only to be killed by a passing taxi.

_Yeah, we owned the night.__  
__Yes!__  
__Oh, oh, oh__  
__Oh, oh, oh__  
__Oh, oh, oh__  
__Oh, oh, oh_

"Honey, I'm home!" Lao Shi called to his wife of two years.

He found her in the kitchen, legs curled up under her, head resting on her arms which were resting on the table. She looked up, surprised, as he bustled in the door. "What are you doing home so early?" She asked, standing.

"It's seven o'clock," he told her, hints of amusement in his eyes. She was never this careless with the time (she had managed to fit approximately fifty clocks into their small home just to prove that she could be on time).

"Oh!" She bounded toward the fridge, turning on the stove. "I have to get dinner ready."

"Is everything all right?" He placed a hand on her hip, spinning her toward him. "This is not like you."

She smiled up at him, gently. "Things are different now." She commented, cryptically.

"Like what?"

Her eyes seemed softer somehow, in this moment. "We're going to be parents," she admitted.

He pulled her close to him, twirling her around the small kitchen.

"I'm so excited," she whispered in his ear, "but so scared too."

"Everything will be fine," he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her lips, "I love you."

"I love you too."

**The song is **_**'We Owned The Night'**_** by **_**Lady Antebellum.**_

**My favourite is the Jake and Rose part, but Stacey and Brad were different to write. Thoughts?**

**~TLL~**


	3. The Hardest Thing

_Yeah ooh  
We both know that I shouldn't be here  
This is wrong  
And, baby, it's killing me, it's killing you  
Both of us tryin' to be strong  
I've got somewhere else to be  
Promises to keep  
And someone else who loves me  
And trusts me fast asleep  
I've made up my mind  
There is no turning back  
She's been good to me  
And she deserves better than that___

I'm in my room, trying to make up my mind. Somewhere, out in New York City, Rose is on the move. She has snuck out of the Huntsquarters to meet me on the rooftop we picked out as our meeting place. I should have already left too, but something is holding me back tonight. Other nights, I would have swept out my window, racing for her arms, her embrace. Tonight, I could only think of how wrong it was.

Rose was not simply Rose, a girl I liked. Rose was the Huntsgirl, my mortal enemy. I had fallen in love with her, but I couldn't be. I couldn't love her because my grandfather expected me to kill her and her Master expected her to kill me. It wasn't something that we could both live with. I couldn't keep on like this and neither could she. It wasn't fair to either of us.

It wasn't just about how destructive Rose and I were to each other. It was how I couldn't protect the city when I couldn't bear to hurt her. The Huntsclan was ready to destroy magical creatures – Rose wouldn't hesitate to hunt and kill anyone I knew. Including Haley. And I couldn't do anything that would jeopardize Haley's life. Haley trusted me to take care of her, to make the world a good, beautiful place.

I owed it to Haley to put a stop to Rose and me. I had to turn my back on the girl I loved for the good of my world. For the good of everyone I knew. It would hurt like hell to pretend that she never meant anything; to pretend that I didn't know who was behind the mask the next time that we encountered one another but I had to. Heart heavy, I left to meet Rose on our rooftop for the last time, wings weighing me down as I glided toward my broken heart.

_It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to do  
To look you in the eye and tell you I don't love you  
It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to lie  
To show no emotion when you start to cry  
I can't let you see what you mean to me  
When my hands are tied and my heart's not free  
We're not meant to be  
It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to do  
To turn around and walk away  
Pretending I don't love you_

Rose was waiting for me. She was leaning against the railing, looking out at the New York skyline. Her mask was tucked into her pocket, her face pale in the moonlight. Her long blonde hair was flowing in the night wind. She was beautiful; stealing my breath away every time I looked at her. She turned, hearing the beat of my wings. A smile lit up her face as she looked at me, face shining.

"Jake!" She cried, throwing herself into my arms the moment I turned into a human. I took a long moment to hold her, kiss her, one last time. "You look so sad," she observed.

My throat felt heavy and thick. I gripped her biceps underneath my hands, pushing her back. I met her eyes – her beautiful, big, blue eyes that were so clear and deep it almost broke my resolve. "We need to talk."

Something in her face changed. "Jake, please," she breathed.

"No, listen. This isn't a relationship we can be in," I fumbled.

"If this is because we're supposed to be enemies that can change," Rose protested. "I'll be ruler of the Clan soon and I can change all of that. It'll be different."

I shook my head. No matter what changes were made, this still couldn't be. It would never be right. I could never do what I was supposed to, so long as she was blinding me. My love for her was holding me back, was making me see the world differently. I wasn't the protector I should be. I wasn't the hero I should be. All because I was too afraid of wounding her. It couldn't be like that anymore.

"It's not just about who we are." My jaw trembled as I forced out the biggest lie I had ever told in my entire life. "It's that I don't love you."

Rose's face crumbled. I wished that I could take it back, kiss along her cheeks and jaw, tell her that I was wrong and she was the best thing that ever happened to me. She _was_ the best thing that ever happened to me but she was also the worst.

"Jake," she managed before a tear leaked out of her eye and down her cheek.

I resisted the urge to brush it away with my thumb. I was not free to love her. I was bound to being the American Dragon. I was bound to ending her Clan's reign of terror – something that she would never be free from.

"Goodbye, Huntsgirl."

I slipped back into my dragon form, and she met my eyes, her blue orbs blurred with her tears. She reached out a hand for me, but I had already turned my back on her.

_I know that we'll meet again  
Fate has a place and time  
So you can get on with your life  
I've got to be cruel to be kind  
Like Dr. Zhivago  
All my love I'll be sending  
And you will never know  
'Cause there can be no happy ending__  
_

It took longer than I expected for her and I to come face to face again. She was in her Huntsgirl outfit, her Huntsmaster not far behind her. I was the American Dragon, Gramps not far behind me.

"Finish him," the Huntsmaster ordered.

Rose dropped into a fighting stance, right hand curled around a deadly looking weapon. I looked over my shoulder at Gramps, who gave me a look. I echoed her fighting stance, heart hammering in my chest. She looked fierce, but still beautiful.

"Ready to die, dragon?" Her voice was low and harsh.

I wished I didn't have to fight her. I wished I didn't have to hurt her. But what choice did I have?

She jumped at me, left hand going for my vulnerable ear; weapon going for my throat. I ducked, her feet barely brushed against my neck. She stumbled, falling to the ground. I slapped my tail down along her back. She let out a small mewl of pain before snapping her mouth shut, refusing to show weakness in front of the Huntsmaster. She was back on her feet in an instant, moving with a fatal grace.

We came together again, moving against one another in a brutal dance. Her eyes snapped, locating each of our mentors before she dared whisper to me, "I loved you."

I fought to keep emotions out of my eyes. "This is all we were ever meant to be." I pushed her away from me, but she was against me in an instant, fists driving into my tender belly.

I grabbed both of her wrists in one hand, forcing her weapon to the ground. I had her against a tree, resisting the urge to drop my dragon façade and kiss her. I still dreamed of her every night. I still longed for her caress. I would close my eyes and hope that, somehow, she would know that I had been lying, that she still meant the world to me and we should fight to find some way to make it work.

It didn't happen, of course, real life never does work like that.

_It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to do  
To look you in the eye and tell you I don't love you  
It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to lie  
To show no emotion when you start to cry  
I can't let you see what you mean to me  
When my hands are tied and my heart's not free  
We're not meant to be  
It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to do  
To turn around and walk away  
Pretending I don't love you  
_

I was startled awake one night, feeling a predator's eyes on me. I flicked on my lamp, perched precariously on my bedside table, and saw her standing by the window. The cold wind from outside breezed in. She didn't even turn around but she knew that I was awake, looking at her.

"I've decided you're lying," she announced.

"Rose, don't do this. Don't hang onto something that isn't there." I murmured quietly, trying not to draw attention to the fact that she was right. I was lying to her, for her own good and for mine. Neither of us could be who we were supposed to be if we remained trapped in a relationship that was going to self-destruct.

"It's not hanging if it's still there. We've been through so much together. It never stopped you before." She finally turned around to face me, and I was rendered speechless. "What changed?"

I didn't answer her question. She ought to know. What changed was I kept seeing Clan members destroying magical creatures I cared about and counted as close friends. What changed was I saw a Clan member murder one of the Oracle Twins – Kara – in cold blood as Sara screamed in agony, neither one of them seeing it coming. What changed was I looked into Rose's eyes as her hand closed around my throat and saw no love for me there – no trace of who she truly was; all I saw was the Huntsgirl, dangerous and unforgiving. What changed was I saw a Clan member attack Haley and I had to draw the line. I had to separate my duties from my personal life and recognize that something had to give. And it had to be the personal life. I couldn't love her and save people. She would continue to live without me, but they might not.

"I woke up. Realized that neither of us should have to continue on in something that was going nowhere."

"We could have gone everywhere," Rose argued.

I swung my legs over the edge of my bed, standing up. I admit, I was trying to use my height and muscle to intimidate her but this was Rose and she didn't get intimidated.

"Jake," she growled sternly, "don't you dare lie to me."

And then I'm kissing her. I don't know what happened in between but I've got her pinned against the wall and my body. I'm kissing her like she's life itself and she's hanging onto me like she'll die if she lets go. Her nails are digging into my skin, her breath hot against my flesh. I tear off her top; she's already shrugging out of her pants. I throw her onto my bed, my teeth going to the crook of her neck, biting as she gasps. My fingers nestle between her legs and she breathes my name. My tongue slides down along her collarbone, tasting the sweat that's gathering there.

It's rough, and it's messy, and when I finally slide between her thighs we both cry out in relief. Her fingers play along my ribs, nails digging into bone. When I wake up in the morning, I'll have bruises there; a brief reminder that this was once real. She arches underneath me, her throat exposed, surrounded by her golden hair. I kiss her lips, gently, firmly, trying to convey everything I can into that one gesture.

I want that kiss to tell her I'm sorry: for lying to her, for playing her, for knowing that it will never work. I want that kiss to tell her that I'm breaking too: my heart is in a million pieces; my brain is made up of nothing but her. I want that kiss to tell her to move on with her life: she'll be great someday (not that she isn't already but I know that she'll rise to new heights), she'll really fall in love someday, she'll get every good thing that she deserves – even though if karma is a real thing, the Huntsgirl has a lot to pay for. I want that kiss to tell her everything that I still can't put into words.

She can't tell, of course.

When we're finished we're covered in sweat, bruises, and scars: lasting reminders that we were once part of each other's lives. Rose moves out from between my sheets and I admire her form for the last time. She dresses herself, and turns to face me.

"And I still mean nothing to you?"

I closed my eyes, pretending that she hadn't spoken. I feel the tickle of her hair against my cheek, her lips ghosting across mine. I lie still and breathe, until I'm sure that she's gone.

Then I cry.

_Maybe another time, another day  
As much as I want to, I can't stay  
I've made up my mind  
There is no turning back  
She's been good to me  
And she deserves better than that_

"Where's Rose been lately?" Haley asked me over breakfast. I can barely meet her eyes. Sweet Haley, sweet unknowing Haley. She never knew who Rose truly was, how hard we had to fight to love one another.

"Rose won't be coming around anymore." My throat is thick with the words. Somehow telling Haley makes it final. It can never be worked out between Rose and me; not with the life we both lead. If we were different people, in a different world, we would have a different ending. But it's this world, and there is no happy ending for us.

"What?!" Haley shrieks. "But I _loved_ Rose. You two were going to get married! I had it all planned out in my head! What's wrong with you?"

How could I explain to Haley that I loved Rose too? How could I explain to Haley that it was for her that I walked away from Rose? There was no way that I could explain how much I wished that our life was different; how much I was willing to sacrifice myself in order to save Haley, and everyone else that deserved it. I was willing to give myself over, forget about who I was personally, in order to be their savior.

"It wasn't meant to be." I was never meant to lie beside Rose and love her forever. I was never meant to fall for her. I was never meant to know who was beneath the Huntsgirl mask. I had, and the truth was bitter. I couldn't change my mind about my actions; couldn't reverse what I knew was the right path. Whatever Rose and I had was nothing compared to what Haley and the magical community deserved from me.

I couldn't go back on a promise I'd made to them.

_It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to do_

_To look you in the eye and tell you I don't love you  
It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to lie  
To show no emotion when you start to cry  
I can't let you see what you mean to me  
When my hands are tied and my heart's not free  
We're not meant to be  
It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to do  
To turn around and walk away  
Pretending I don't love you  
_

After that night, I never saw under the mask again. Rose ceased to be, taking on the role of Huntsmistress whole heartedly. I had dedicated my life to saving the magical community and putting an end to the Huntsclan. She had dedicated her life to bringing the Huntsclan to absolute power, undermining everything I had ever done.

Whenever we met in battle, it was always charged with ghosts of our former selves. I couldn't meet those eyes without remembering how I used to love her, and was still in love with the person she had once been. I was slightly bewildered, at times, at how much she had changed and how I could simultaneously despise and adore the same person, who wasn't really the same person at all.

It took ten years – ten long, furious, bloody years – for everything to finally come to head. We were young, strong, and being consumed with our respective duties. I was still a willing slave to those who needed me, giving myself over so that Haley would never have to do what I was doing. She had become a monster in her own right, an angel with the eyes of a demon, blood dripping from her hands. When we met – the moonlight shining down on us on a rooftop – we both knew what was going to happen; something was going to give and one of us was going to have to go.

For once, we were alone without other soldiers standing behind us.

"Dragon," the Huntsmistress hissed; her ornate robes and savage weaponry adding to her ruthless image.

I let a crackle of flame escape my lips.

She drew a blade from the belt around her waist, throwing it, aiming for my heart. I batted it away with ease. I was not going to be brought down by her weapons. I swept my tail, aiming to break her neck and end the fight quickly; bloodless. Once she was ended, so was the Clan. The Huntsmistress dodged, bringing her closer to me than we had been in several years. Her breath puffed out in a cloud, dissipating around her, giving her an almost haunting appearance.

She was more advanced than I remembered, but so was I. I reached out, faster than she could blink, closing my claw around her neck. She let out a strangled yelp, kicking her legs at me, arms trying to reach out and scratch my eyes, pull at my ears. Without hesitation, I used my wings to fly high into the air before I threw her to the ground. I heard a crack as she hit, but didn't take the time to think about what it was. I pinned her down with my foot, ridding her of her weapons belt as she opened her eyes, dazed. As I saw her clouded expression, I came to the conclusion that the crack had been her skull.

I placed my claws around her neck, getting ready to snap it and end everything, once and for all. The Clan would be done; the world would be safer; I could finally walk away. There was something in her eyes that made me hesitate. I hooked my claw around her mask, ripping away the fabric so I could look upon her face.

It was more aged than I remembered, but it made sense. It had been a decade since I had last seen her without the mask on; a decade since we had made the love I still carried scars from. She had lines around her eyes and mouth, speaking of experiences that I would never know of. There was a long scar running across her left cheek and I wondered who had given it to her.

"Your turn," she prompted me; voice much fainter than it had been before the fight had begun.

I didn't have to think about what she meant. I changed into my human form. It made me more vulnerable, but I was not worried about needing to defend myself from her any longer. Whatever damage I had done to her when I had dropped her, was slowly killing her. Her facial expression softened, looking into my eyes after so long. Her hand, shaking and trembling, reached up to run along my face, across my hair.

"No more green," she observed, but I didn't comment. She was talking to herself.

We sat there for a long minute, the stars winking down across us.

"Tell me something," she requested and I nodded. She was going to die and who was I to deny a last request? "All those years ago, were you lying to me?"

I ran my own hand along her scarred cheek, tangling my fingers in the blonde hair that had only gotten longer as the years went by. "Yes," I admitted, my heavy heart feeling more unburdened as the truth left my lips.

"You know," she whimpered, "I think I still love you. I loved you so much then and that feeling never left me. I hated when I had to fight you because I still didn't want to hurt you. I love you." She said with conviction at the end.

"I love you too," I said.

She reached over, collecting my hand in hers, our fingers twining together. It had been so long since I held her hand in mine but it still felt just as right.

"One more thing?" She asked, hopeful, clear, gorgeous, blue, eyes meeting my own. I nodded, helpless to those captivating eyes. "Will you kiss me?"

I gathered her into my arms, cradling her to my chest. She let out a moan of pain as I moved her, but settled into my arms, my heartbeat sounding in her ear. I brought my head down to hers, our breath mingling together. I brought my lips to hers, feeling their weak movements against my own. It was sweet, almost innocent somehow – a near impossible thing considering all that we had done as individuals and all that we had done together.

I moved away from her. Her eyes drifted open as she snuggled deeper into my arms. I watched as she took me in – both of us knowing it was the last time. Tears came into her eyes.

"I love you, Jake." She managed, fading fast.

"I love you, Rose." I replied, making sure she knew that I did love her and that I forgave her.

She was gone then.

I sat and cried over her body, but one thought kept breaking through to me: at least she died as my Rose.

_Don't wanna live a lie__  
What to do  
Oh yeah_

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thank you to my fantastic beta: noble6. The song is **_**The Hardest Thing**_** by **_**98 Degrees.**_

**~TLL~**


	4. Sad Beautiful Tragic

_Long handwritten note deep in your pocket_

_Words, how little they mean when you're a little too late_

_I stood right by the tracks, your face in a locket_

_Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait_

Rose stood on the balcony, looking over Hong Kong. The lights of the city winked back at her, bright and beautiful. She closed her eyes, letting the night air wash over her. Memories began to wink across her eyelids: the life she remembered living and the life she recently learned she lost. She let her knees give out from underneath her, curling up against the railing, hiding her face in her arms. What was she supposed to do now?

She couldn't continue on as Rose without thinking about who she could have been; who she was supposed to be. She couldn't tear her mind away from Jake, and all the truths that he had told her. Before he had left to return to his home to New York, he had come to see her again, and she had only been able to push him away, too addled by her own thoughts to even consider talking to him. He'd nodded, saying he understood, and had handed her a letter that he had written, describing everything he had come to say that she hadn't been willing to hear.

The note was still in its envelope, crumpled deep inside of her jeans pocket. She hadn't been ready to read it yet – she'd opened it the night she had received it, but had been unable to read anything but 'Dear Rose'. After the picture had fallen out – the one of them at the dance that she'd tried to give back – she'd lost it.

She couldn't live like this. She was an American teenager, recently relocated to Hong Kong. She lived with her parents and she owned a goldfish and she'd _never_ been anything else. Except she had been something else. She had been a feared figure, wiped from history but not from Jake or herself. She wished she didn't know this; wished she was ignorant of Jake and his love for her and from her other persona.

Now that she knew, it would haunt her.

She stared at her hands and wondered what acts they had committed in her other life: acts that she couldn't bring herself to face. She'd never so much as broken her bedtime. Yet, in the other life, she had been a known killer. She clenched her hands into fists and felt her own strength; her muscle memory remained. She knew how to fight, knew how to kill, and it was something she would never be able to shake. She dug her nails into her palms until she saw blood and all it reminded her of was the red of a dragon.

_We had a beautiful magic love there_

_What a sad beautiful tragic love affair_

She didn't only remember her fearsome time as the Huntsgirl. She remembered loving Jake too: it was him that brought her back to herself. She remembered the purity of their young love; hearts open, arms spread, kisses deep. She remembers finding out his true identity; her heart still aches.

They had been something for the romance books, hadn't they? The forbidden love between two young teenagers who couldn't close their eyes and walk away from one another. It was Romeo and Juliet except, somehow, more heartbreaking. Romeo and Juliet could be together in death. Jake was living day to day knowing that she was the Huntsgirl – someone he couldn't have had anyway – and she was the oblivious girl in Hong Kong – one who couldn't bring herself to love him back anymore.

And she, well, she had to live with the knowledge that she loved him but couldn't. An echo of who she had been loved him and he loved that echo. Even if she was in New York now, he would be seeing the Rose that fought him, not the one who hadn't held a weapon until just a short time ago. To deny she wanted him would be a lie, but to what end? What cause, what heart, drove her to want him? She couldn't know.

And the ignorance would kill both of them.

_In dreams I meet you in warm conversation_

_We both wake in lonely beds, different cities_

_And time is taking its sweet time erasing you_

_And you've got your demons, and, darling, they all look like me_

She dreams of him.

Specifically, Rose dreams of when they had met in dreams. It's only in sleep that those conversations come bubbling to the surface – the only time they could see one another and hold one another during that period in time. She's always taken aback by how Jake looked at her in the dream-memories. And when she wakes, all she can see is his adoring face.

She won't ever see him again. The thought makes her taste loneliness and it makes her bed seem much wider, much smaller, and much colder. He's in a completely different bed, waking to a complete different sunrise and nothing is connecting them anymore. Nothing but a life neither of them can bear to remember.

Rose lives her day to day. She waits for her mind to completely fade him away; lose him back into the place of not-really-lived memories. She doesn't know how long she'll have to wait but someday he'll be gone. This crushes and relieves her. She's not sure what emotion is stronger but they're both there, breathing in tandem. Someday he will barely be remembered and that's the day when she can go back to being Rose – not this strange mixture of Rose and Huntsgirl (who she's trying not to remember either).

Sometimes, though, in her dreams, she thinks she's stumbled upon that connection again: the one that allowed them into each other's sleep in the first place. It's not like it was in the dream memories but it's an echo. She can feel his heart beat instead of her own, can feel his emotions leaking into her, an ocean away. She feels the longing in his chest – the one that hers imitates – calling out for her to be near.

Sometimes, she hears him say her name.

It's at times like that she thinks that trying to rid herself of him is selfish. She is still haunting Jake the way he is haunting her. She's still an active part of him, one that he can't see her touch or talk to, but she is still there. This kills her because of how little she can do. She can't explain anything to him because she can't even explain anything to herself.

Rose only hopes that someday, Jake will forget her too. She won't be the girl he loved and lost but, rather, the girl who never really existed at all. She hopes he won't be able to recall the exact colour of her eyes or the way she made him feel. She hopes that he will sit in his chair and not even be able to think of her name.

She doubts it.

They'll haunt one another until they die.

_'Cause we had a beautiful magic love there_

_What a sad beautiful tragic love affair_

Hands shaking, she trips onto the subway. It has been over a year since she has seen Jake, since the awful time when the dark memories returned and she stopped knowing how to think. It's been even longer since she has been in New York. But she's here now – her father having been transferred back to the city – and she owes it to Jake to seek him out.

Somehow, she knows his address.

She wonders if he'll say anything when he sees her. Rose certainly doesn't know what to say to him. She has nothing that she can put into words. Nothing that will make either of them feel any better. She thinks about all that could go wrong, how it could crash and burn, and she almost chickens out. And she probably would have, had she not already been on his doorstep. She knocks once and waits.

Thankfully, Jake is the one who opened the door. Rose didn't know how she would react to one of his parents or his little sister. They stood and stared at each other for a long moment, both of them covered in words they couldn't speak.

"Do you want to come in?" Jake offers after their long moment of silence.

Rose nods. He looks more like a man now; stronger in features, holding muscle better. His hair is a bright green, still peaked at the top of his head. She's glad this is the same; in the sea of unfamiliarity it's something she can grasp at. He leads her to their living room and she sits in the armchair. He sits on the sofa and they stare at one another again.

"I missed you." He begins.

"We moved back," she's quick to blurt.

"I still love you."

"But you can't."

Their eyes lock. Rose feels as though she's being drawn into the depth of him. She can see the questions, the fears, the wants that reside deep within his soul.

"I'm not the girl you fell in love with," she manages, in way of explanation.

"You'll always be Rose – who you are didn't change, the circumstances that built you did."

Rose pauses, drawn up short. She traces the outline of his face with her gaze – so foreign, so dear to her. She'd never really considered this possibility, that she could be the same person in both of the lives she'd lived. It was impossible and preposterous.

It made so much sense.

_Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting_

_Silence, this train runs off its tracks_

_Kiss me, try to fix it, could you just try to listen?_

_Hang up, give up, for the life of us we can't get back_

Jake moves so that he's over her. She can smell his cologne; feel the warmth from his body. She's locked in place as he takes her face in both hands, cradling her as though she is made of glass and his hands are made of china. They're both on the verge of breaking; the final pieces they still possess flying to all corners of the room.

When he kisses her, it's not like they are delicate. They are passion anew. They are gripping limbs, tugged hair, fused lips, and in the middle of it all, a smile, a laugh, at just how it all could have turned out. They kiss until they're breathless; until they are unsure where they end and the other begins. They are twined around each other, and even though so much time has passed, it feels like none has at all. They once knew each other inside and out – who they are didn't change, the circumstances just built them differently.

He's got sadness from losing her that will linger forever. She's got confusion at who and what she was that will never clear. They can't even begin to know one another. They have fallen into too many pieces for them to be reshaped.

"We won't work," she says, though quietly. She's spent too long telling herself that they are too far gone to last; that parallel lives and different worlds have changed them to the point where their Romeo and Juliet affair has fallen from grace, has become old strangers whose memories grow dim.

"We can," Jake says with conviction, kissing the top of her nose. "If you believe it."

"Why do you?"

"We were made to love each other. It doesn't change." He reaches around the side of her body, pulling out her forearm. The dragon birth mark glares at him. "Destiny is flexible."

"The other life –" Rose begins in protest.

"Is in the past. Who we were then is like who we are at the age of five – someone we learned from. We won't ever get that life back, what we had between us then. I know that, and so do you. But we have this life to make something beautiful – something wonderful."

She looks up at the face she dreamed about for so long. The face she knows she loves and that she can't leave again. He kisses her and she kisses him back.

Her answer is yes. She wants to create something wonderful.

_A beautiful magic love there_

_What a sad beautiful tragic, beautiful tragic, beautiful_

The next time she cries over Jake is six years later. They have been wonderful years – just like he promised. Now, it's dark out, the city lights blotting out the stars. She looks up, face shining with tears. Her breath is caught in her throat and she feels like her heart is going to stop. The world is beautiful around her and she pushes her blurry eyes to Jake's face, pale underneath the moon and streetlight.

He's on his knee in front of her, the most beautiful ring she has ever seen in his hand. He's watching her, eyes dissecting her every breath, every reaction. She smiles at him, pink lips curving up.

"Yes."

And just like that, they're going to get married.

_What we had ‒ a beautiful magic love there_

_What a sad beautiful tragic love affair_

She lays Jake to rest sixty-seven years after they say 'I do'. It's a peaceful place, nestled near his grandfather and parents and the child they lost when he was seventeen. She kneels next to his gravestone; hand on the earth that is still loose. It has been a long time since she has been without him –since she was a teenager, trying to relearn America after Hong Kong.

They were so wildly different then. They had both been freshly scarred from everything they had lost in the years before that; identities, loves, and certainties about the future. But after that kiss, none of it mattered anymore. They weren't echoes from the past – they were here and now, in this life.

They weren't Romeo and Juliet. They were never meant to be. They had loved each other and needed each other perhaps just as badly; they had been separated by time and by circumstance. But it didn't stop them. Somehow, they had managed to tumble back into each other's arms and it had been as wonderful as Jake had promised in his living room, when her legs had been shaking from the mere sight of him.

"I always loved you," Rose says to the ground, though she's certain Jake is somewhere he can hear her. "No matter what life it was – I always loved you."

She stands, leaving her heart buried. She steps into the New York taxi, looking at the skyscrapers that dominated the skyline of her childhood. Here, in this city, she loved him, she lost him, and she loved him again. Here, in this place, she would love him always.

_We had a beautiful magic love there_

_What a sad beautiful tragic love affair_

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my epic beta: Noble6. The song is **_**Sad Beautiful Tragic**_** by **_**Taylor Swift.**_

**~TLL~**


	5. A Girl Like Me

_You don't need a girl like me _

_I've got bruises you can't see _

He says he likes me. He kisses me.

And I, I kiss him back. But I don't dare return his sentiments. I want to, oh how I want to, but it wouldn't be right. Jake will be someone someday and I can't bring myself to hold him back. He can never truly know me; can never see the secrets that I keep. He holds me close to him, and I close my eyes, feeling his heartbeat next to my ear; his warm breath running across the top of my head.

He holds me, his hands resting along my hips, straying dangerously close to the bruises I carry. I am not just a girl: I am the Huntsgirl. It is a name I will never escape; an identity that will always be mine. I am brutal and uncaring, lethal and unchallenged. This is a piece of me that I try not to let seep into my every day identity – a piece that I hide from him as much as I can.

I hide it because I can't hurt him. I can't show him that I am not Rose; am not the girl he says he loves. I've got a whole other world that he can never be exposed to. He is too beautiful, too pure, to know of my life.

This is why, when we kiss, I taste of sadness. I will never be the girl he needs. I will never be anyone he needs. I don't belong in the lives of normal people: I have never been one of them. I close my eyes whenever he touches me so I can _pretend_. I like to pretend but I know better.

_And when the lights go out _

_I won't be around _

_You don't need a girl like me _

I want to give him more than I can.

This scares me too.

I can't offer Jake anything of substance. I know he doesn't understand. He looks hurt every time I have to turn his feelings away, closing my eyes against the truth of what could be. Oh, I know very well what could be. That's what gets me the most: I can _see_ this other life that could be mine. Unfortunately, I already have too many lives.

_You can't have a heart like mine _

_But you can hold it for a while _

He kisses me and it's beautiful. He runs his hands under my shirt and I'm already at his jeans. It's beautiful when he pulls me in his arms, flesh on flesh, warmth on warmth. I've never felt so _loved_, so _needed_ by any one. This is the one moment in my life where I'm not anything, anyone, at all except for his. There is no dueling identities or thoughts of what both of us will regret in the morning.

I am his and he is mine.

There's feather light kisses and burning passion. There are my hands in his silken hair and his teeth plucking at my neck. There's my limbs and his limbs; our breath mixing together and coming apart. There's a smile and a laugh. And when it's over, he nestles his face in my shoulder blade. I feel him fall asleep next to me, and I try to find that same kind of peace. I try to drift off and feel secure; try to let the warmth of him be all that I need.

The Hunt is too strong in my veins.

_And when the lights go out _

_I won't be around _

I wonder how long it will take him to notice that I've left. I know he'll be hurt. I'm hurt by leaving but I couldn't stay. I am not his to hold, nor am I my own to command. I have something else to answer to: an ancient calling much stronger than any human blood. I try not to think of his arms around me. I try not to think of his voice.

It's too hard already.

This is the hardest way to do things but that's always been my nature. The easiest path has never been the one that tempted me. Still, I should have realized that this was not just my temptation I was looking at, it was also his. I shouldn't have let him think that I was someone he could hold. I will never be – have never been – the type to belong anywhere. I've never spent too long in one spot, always jumping from one thing to another.

I won't be there when he wakes.

Still, I hope he knows he's a piece of me forever now.

_You can't have a heart like mine _

_There's a rule that goes unwritten_

No one asks me where I've been. Of course they don't; I'm untouchable, my actions only accountable to the Master himself. I feel their eyes on me as I walk through the hallways. They seem to know that the Huntsgirl – the Master's pet – has been out doing something she shouldn't. I act like I don't notice their sneers and empty gazes.

I know very well what's expected of me. I know that I can't fall for someone, even someone inside of the Clan. I am not to have a heart; a will of my own. I am a willing slave to the Clan and I shall remain that way until I die. It's my destiny and I am not one to fight destiny.

They can stare at me all they want. They can gossip about me all they want. In the end, everything I do is for them – my Clan Members. I am loyal to them and them alone. Rules or no rules, unwritten laws that I must conduct myself by, they are where my heart truly lies: next to them, in the hunt.

_And I break it from time to time _

Sometimes, in the darkness, when I am in my chambers, I let myself think of Jake. When everyone else is sleeping and there's nothing to intrude on my forbidden thoughts, I think of what we could be like if I wasn't bound to something else. I think we would be beautiful together. I think we would fit together perfectly, like we did on the night I bared my soul to him and I let everything I was fall away.

I still feel his touches from that night scorch on my skin.

It's a terrible thing to know what something could be and not be able to have it. It will tear you apart from the inside out if you let it. I try not to let it, I fancy myself stronger than that. True or not, it's what I believe. I seal off my heart and I try not to think about what-if's and could-have-been's.

They're not real anyway.

_If you're fool enough to listen _

_Then I'm fool enough to lie _

I never expected Jake to confront me. I never expected him to hold me against the brick wall, hands on either side of my head, inexplicable strength flaming in his eyes. He was still unbelievably gentle with me – I wanted to tell him that he didn't have to be. I had been thrown off of buildings and had broken almost every single bone in my body; I was no china doll. He wanted to know why I was suddenly avoiding him.

I couldn't tell him that I had finally woken up, had finally smelled the roses. I couldn't keep closing my eyes and living in a fantasy world. I was not _Rose_. I was _Huntsgirl_. It was time to stop looking at other possibilities: there was only one path for me and that's all there ever would be. I looked into his eyes and I couldn't believe it; my secrets almost tumbled past my lips for him to see.

There was something in his eyes – utter trust – that almost broke me. It almost made me see that I didn't have to choose one identity, one destiny. I looked away and the feeling was gone. I'd already made my choice. It had been made since I was born, a dragon birth mark on my arm. I knew that I would have to hurt him then. I would have to wound him so badly that he would not come back and question me.

I lied.

I told him he never meant anything to me. I told him that I just used him for attention. I told him I kissed him back because I liked being kissed. I watched his face crumple and turn.

One thing I never told him was that I was sorry.

_That's the kind of girl I am _

_I take off before I land _

I never took the time to question my actions, to wonder if I had done the right thing. It was a question I could never bear to ponder. A line of thinking like that would take me to the depths of my soul and my soul was a dusty, dirty place filled with skeletons and the lives that had perished at my hands.

My soul was not a place anyone would want to visit; not even me.

_And even though you think you can _

_You can't change the way I am _

Jake cornered me again. He told me I wasn't acting like myself. I wanted to laugh in his ignorant face. He had no idea who I was, had no idea that I was, in fact, acting like myself. I just wasn't acting like the self he knew. I didn't breathe any of this to him; it wasn't anything that he would ever understand.

He asked me why I wasn't being Rose anymore.

I didn't know how to tell him that Rose was dead. She was a distant echo, so far gone that soon she wouldn't even be a memory.

He looked at me with sad eyes. I didn't have to tell him; somehow, I think he already knew. He was already aware that Rose didn't live inside of me anymore; I had already let her go.

He kissed me then. It was soft and sweet and just how I remembered it. He kissed me until I forgot how to breathe and I was clutching the front of his shirt out of desperation.

He whispered in my ear, sweet and low, his voice husky._ Come back to me_.

That was something I couldn't do.

The dead never rise again.

_Cause the rule remains unwritten _

_I still break it from time to time _

His rough hands were running across the insides of my arms and the pockets of my thighs. His lips were on my forehead, my cheeks, my burning lips, before descending toward my collarbones. My fingernails scrape along his shoulder blades and down to his ribs. We're both panting; I can feel him breathe against my belly button.

I know this isn't right. I'm hurting him and me. But I can't stop. There's something intoxicating about him; about how I feel when I'm with him. There's something in the way his eyes light up and how he talks and how he moves. I tell myself I'm strong but I can't resist this; can't resist him.

When it comes to the moment, he's what I live for.

But when the moment is gone, when we have both quieted and his peace comes – how innocent he looks when he dreams – I remember myself. I think of the Master and my duties and I run, like I have so often before. I don't look back.

I don't belong to that life.

I never would have.

_If you're fool enough to listen _

_Then I'm fool enough to lie _

He doesn't speak to me again. He doesn't even glance in my direction. Graduation happens and we both move on with our lives. I don't know where he goes. I only know that I am now leading the Clan to greater heights than anyone ever dreamed I would. I still think of him sometimes.

Most often, I think of what he would have said if I had ever explained myself; if I had told him who I was and what it was that I had to do. I don't think he would have believed me. Magic had no place in his life, not life defeating it had a place in mine.

I feel him, like a ghost, sometimes. His ghostly hand against my palm, holding it for all the world was worth. It's only at times like this that I feel an ache for what could have been. I could have loved him. I could have been next to him until both of our lives were over. I know this to be true. I think he knew it too, that's what kept him reaching out to me long after we both knew that the girl he loved was gone.

But nothing could have changed fate. I was born to the Clan. I would die to the Clan.

He was better off without me, anyway.

_You can't change the way I am _

_You don't need a girl like me_

**I don't own anything recognizable. The song is **_**A Girl Like Me**_** by **_**Miranda Lambert**_**. Thanks to my fantastic beta: noble6.**

**~TLL~**


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